Gravity
by Nixie the Bloody Pixie
Summary: To think that it was something like this that was needed for him to pull his head out of his ass was quite the surprise. Then again, women always were fickle creatures... — rated M for mentions of sex


**Owns nothing...**

* * *

 _Gravity_

 _..._

That bar…

He was sitting in that bar once more, swirling around a glass of amber liquor in between his fingers, and he had never been as bored in his life as he was now.

That bar with their cheap whiskey and their cheap vodka and their cheap alcohol in general…

That— _fucking_ —bar…

The music hummed in the background, a breezy jazz that snuck its way past his ears and into his brain, creating mirages of something he'd once experienced himself—

—lips moving against each other, lust and desire heavily scenting the air in the small room as hips were being slammed back and forth, arms reached whatever part of the other's anatomy they could reach, breasts being grabbed harshly by callous hands and fondled like they were butter, delicate fingers wrapping around his manhood in return before rubbing, sighs and pants rising in volume as their climaxes neared, moss and blonde hair mixing together as their strands of hair were drenched by their sweat—

—making him create a sound between a sigh and a groan before he downed the rest of the alcohol, ice cubes left behind to melt ever so slowly in the warm atmosphere.

" _Been a long road to follow_

 _Been there and gone tomorrow_

 _Without saying goodbye to yesterday_

 _Are the memories I hold still valid?_

 _Or have the tears diluted them?"_

Maroon eyes looked up at the narrow stage opposite of the bar, fixing in on the delicate songstress sitting by the glossy, black piano, before moving down to watch her lips mold to form the quiet words she let out.

" _Maybe this time tomorrow_

 _The rain will cease to follow_

 _And the mist will fade into one more today_

 _Something somewhere out there keeps calling"_

How long had it been since he actually spent a day without thinking about the past, about _him_ , about _her_ , about _everything_?

Too long…

" _Am I going home?_

 _Will I hear someone singing solace to the silent moon?_

 _Zero gravity, what's it like?"_

'Zero gravity, huh? Damn girl knows nothing' he thought wryly, one corner of his lips turned up while the other turned down, looking down at the empty glass in his hand for a few seconds before once more raising his head to take in the sight of the petite songstress up by the piano.

" _Am I alone?"_

He closed his eyes, putting the empty glass down on the desk behind him as he absentmindedly fished in his pocket for something to pay for his drink with.

" _Is somebody there beyond these heavy, aching feet?_

 _Still the road keeps on telling me to go on_

 _Something is pulling me_

 _I feel the gravity… of it all..."_

Finally finding some money, and leaving a few bills on the bar's surface, he stood up from the chair, ignoring the soft claps that the songstress had received for her little performance as he headed for the exit.

The soft sound of a light drizzle greeted him the second that the door to the bar opened up for the outside world, a world of neon lights and roaring voices that tumbled and echoed off the walls.

He headed for the ship, nothing except the raindrops soaking through both jackets and shirts being acknowledged in a few fleeting seconds, and didn't make a single sound the entire time.

He didn't say a single thing when he reached the ship, neither when he went inside it and headed for the main room, not even when Ed came whirling past him in a frenzy of red hair and goggles and wide grins.

"The Hell crawled up your ass and died?" Faye grunted as she pushed past the Cowboy, a half burned cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth, but he didn't answer her.

Instead he reached out and snatched the smoke from Faye's lips, grinning as the woman immediately started cursing and screaming obscenities at him, before taking in a long drag of the nicotine and tons of other toxins—the traces of ruby lipstick that stuck to his lips didn't even faze him as he tried to hand back the nearly burnt out stick of tobacco.

He really needed to get that halfway cracked mirror out of that room.

"Keep the damn thing, retard!" Faye yelled as she stomped out of the room, "God damn men and their fucking disgusting habits!"

He grinned even wider than before at Faye's words, words of familiarity and joy and annoyance and happiness and ignorance and… and _home_ — _the future_.

He didn't need to the past anymore, it was high time for him to move on anyway…

Spike smiled as he took the cigarette to his lips once more, 'Zero gravity huh…? I no longer need to drift around, I've found my home…'

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